


in the light of the dawn

by sinspiration



Series: dusk to dawn [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, HEY WHAT IF SHIRO POV, M/M, Mates, Vampire Keith (Voltron), Werewolf Shiro (Voltron), YEAH LET'S MAKE THAT A THING, age gap isn't a huge part of the fic but it does exist
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-03
Updated: 2020-05-03
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:47:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23975485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinspiration/pseuds/sinspiration
Summary: The wind shifts.The wind shifts, and suddenly every part of Shiro’s brain lights up as he hones in on the most important scent in the world.Mate.
Relationships: Keith/Shiro (Voltron)
Series: dusk to dawn [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1728628
Comments: 35
Kudos: 457





	in the light of the dawn

**Author's Note:**

> Literally this entire fic is just "but what was SHIRO'S SIDE OF THINGS??" Cause I can't resist a Shiro pov.
> 
> Enjoy??

It’s ass o’clock at night when the gas light on Shiro’s car cheerfully dings on. Shiro curses both it and himself. Normally he’s much better at keeping his car topped up, but he’s been run ragged all this week between his day job and trying to deal with some pack politics. A cousin of his had recognized her mate, which was great. The issue? Said mate was an exchange student at her university and she was heading back to Australia at the end of the month.

He rubs a hand over his face just thinking about it. Shiro’s pack reacted to mates a little bit differently than most. Whereas most werewolves could at least keep their heads where their mates were concerned, Shiro’s pack felt the pull in a way that could only be described as _more intense._ It went back decades, from when they had been cursed by a witch trying to drain their pack’s power and energy for her own purposes, and though she had eventually been… dealt with, thanks to Shiro, the overwhelming desire to be there for their mates--to support and protect and provide…

Well. Shiro hasn’t personally experienced it yet, but he’s had plenty of second-hand insight just from watching his pack over the years, and this latest business with his cousin Yumi was no exception. As second-acting alpha under his grandmother, since his parents are currently overseas for their annual visit to Japan, Shiro’s the one currently frantically working with Yumi’s parents to try to get her transferred to Yumi’s mate’s university in Australia. On top of it being crunch time in developing his latest patent and getting it ready for investors.

In short, Shiro is exhausted. All he wants to do is go home and pass out in his bed. He spares a few seconds wondering if he could just get home with the gas in his tank, but even as the bleary thought crosses his mind, he’s already heading to the closest gas station. Better to just get it over with now and not have to worry about it come morning when he drags himself out of bed.

He passes the little local, twenty-four hour diner that he sometimes stops in for any-hour breakfast and pulls into the gas station just a couple blocks down. With a sigh, he climbs out of his car.

He’s impatient as he waits for his tank to fill up. The night air’s waking him up some, but it‘s an antsy sort of alertness. Like something’s just on the edge of his mind and he’s missing it. It’s frustrating. Is he forgetting something? Has he overlooked a key point earlier in the day? Is--

The wind shifts.

The wind shifts, and suddenly every part of Shiro’s brain lights up as he hones in on the most important scent in the world.

_Mate._

The thought is overwhelming and staggering all at once, but there’s no mistaking it. One hint of the scent and Shiro just _knows._ He whips around and spots a slim figure in the dark, pale skin and messy, black hair, and red zip-up hoodie. Rooted to the spot with want, Shiro breathes him in. It allows him to examine all the different layers of the man’s scent, and Shiro picks them apart in a few scant seconds. He catches the cling of another, of magic and sex, which has Shiro growling low in his throat before he can think better of it, especially when the thread of the scent is tinged with blood. 

That shocks him, immediately makes him want to reach out, but before he can take a single step, he’s hit with the wet, acrid scent of rising panic and fear. It has him snarling, because how dare someone scare his mate, how _dare_ they make him this afraid--

The man looks around frantically before he takes off at a run and it’s nothing for Shiro to follow. He’ll find whoever is out to hurt his mate and he’ll deal with them. But he’ll keep out of sight to do it. Take care of the problem quietly, and then make sure the rest of the area is safe. He’ll patrol and keep watch until his mate is comfortable again. His mate will have scented him too, and will know that Shiro is out there, watching and protecting him. 

The man ducks into the diner and Shiro rumbles in approval. His mate is so smart; going to a well-lit, public place while Shiro takes care of his problem. It’s like they’re already on the same wavelength, working together without even having to speak.

Though Shiro can’t wait to talk to him. He wants to hear his mate’s voice. Maybe… maybe he will tell Shiro what a good job he did, in protecting him. In being a good alpha, a good wolf, a good mate. And in turn, Shiro will tell him how strong he is, how smart, how happy he made Shiro in allowing Shiro to look after him.

Shiro can’t wait to see how it feels to hold his mate in his arms.

Alright. Plan of action. Scout and patrol to find out what is making his mate so afraid and then take care of it. Make sure the rest of the area is safe for his mate, so that he’s able to be at ease. Shiro will do that gladly.

Although fuck, first he has to go back and get his car.

***

Shiro is so furious he can barely think.

Two days. Two days his mate has spent desperately remaining in the public eye, going from twenty-four hour diner to superstore to gym. He hasn’t been going home. Has barely been sleeping. Sometimes he catches a nap in the library, but even then his sleep is broken and restless.

He also hasn’t been eating, which is even more worrying to Shiro now that he knows his mate is a vampire. It was something Shiro had realized once he’d finally focused more on the individual notes of his mate’s scent, instead of how wonderful it was as a whole. His mate was a vampire, and exhausted and frightened and severely underfed. The faint hint of blood Shiro had picked up before was long gone, and couldn’t have been much more than a mouthful at best. But he hasn’t gone to the after-hours blood bank or tried to contact someone in the donor circuit, and he hasn’t spoken to anyone else. There hasn’t even been a whiff of another in his clan.

He’s been running and hiding from something terrible and Shiro has been failing him. With being unable to find a threat to remove, Shiro has just tried to keep up patrol, tried to show his mate that he was there, ready to protect and provide safety, but it hasn’t helped. His mate has only seemed to get more and more anxious, and he hasn’t been eating and hasn’t been sleeping and hasn’t been going _home._

It’s enough to push Shiro into new action. He’ll offer his own den up. If his mate is too afraid to go to his own place, then Shiro can provide his home as a refuge. It’s something he should have done sooner, and of course--he’s so _stupid_ \--of course he can also provide a meal. With his werewolf healing factor, his body can replenish blood almost as fast as it’s drawn. 

It was... something the witch had taken advantage of, years ago. 

Shiro shakes away the bad memory. Now it will be turned into a positive. He’ll be able to provide for his mate. His mate will never have to go hungry again. 

Shiro will be so good to him. 

Though right now Shiro has to beg his mate’s forgiveness at failing to make him feel safe.

Shiro pushes open the door to the diner, bell jingling cheerily, and can’t help his sharp intake of breath. His mate is right there, so close, and he looks so sad, so tired and worn that Shiro aches with it but god...

God, he’s so beautiful.

Shiro approaches the booth. Every step closer fills him with a sort of giddy glee. _My mate. Mine._ And then he gets to watch as his mate scents him in the air and turns to look at him, gorgeous violet eyes widening in recognition. Shiro hopes for a smile, but he’s unsurprised by the frown, even as it fills him with shame. His mate is disappointed in him.

Shiro can only try to be better. 

He slides into the seat across from his mate and watches carefully as the man’s breath hitches, heart rate spiking. It makes sense that he’s nervous, with this being their first interaction face to face. On top of that, the scent of fear still clings to him. He orders a coffee when the waitress asks, not taking his eyes off his mate for even a moment. He’s too important. This is too important.

As soon as she’s finished with the coffee, Shiro reaches out, desperate to touch, to ease some of the fear, and his mate flinches away from him.

Shiro will _be better._

“My name is Shiro,” he says when his mate says nothing.

“Okay,” the man says, barely an exhale. He’s trembling, no doubt from exhaustion and hunger. Damn it, but Shiro will make this right.

“What’s your name?” he asks gently when his mate makes no move to say anything further.

His mate licks his lips, and Shiro can’t help but track the movement. The man’s mouth is small and pretty like the rest of him. But he still says nothing, and Shiro longs to soothe him.

“Your name?” he asks again, tentatively reaching out once more.

The man shifts away, leaving Shiro crestfallen, but he allows Shiro a gift. “Keith.” 

“Keith,” he breathes. It’s perfect. He’s perfect. Shiro loses himself for a moment, just basking in knowing his mate’s name, when the fear scent intensifies and Shiro’s mind returns to the problem at hand.”You haven’t been going home.”

Keith’s breath stutters. “W-what?”

“You haven’t been going home,” Shiro repeats, some of his rage coming back at the knowledge that Keith has been out for these last two days with no one taking care of him. Even if Shiro has disappointed him so utterly, Keith’s clan should have done something. “You’re exhausted. Why isn’t your clan taking care of you?”

“I don’t have a clan,” Keith says, the words coming out fast and raw. “I don’t have anyone.”

And that--

To think that Keith has been _alone_ \--

He’s furious and he makes the stupid, _stupid_ mistake of letting it show. Shiro can only curse himself as Keith bolts. Of course his poor mate, already so on edge, was going to be upset by Shiro responding with anger to his admission, like a stupid dog. _Not angry at you, please, I’m sorry, not angry at_ you.

He hurriedly drops a twenty on the table and goes after Keith, apologies already tripping over his tongue as Keith stops in an alley, back against the wall.

“I’m not going to be an easy kill,” he hisses, and Shiro bares his teeth at the words, already moving to map out the alley. If Keith’s enemy is here, Shiro will fight with all he has.

But his attention is quickly pulled back to Keith, who wobbles as he stands. He’s trembling harder now, eyes going a little unfocused, and Shiro keeps his guard up, keeps his senses at the ready, but he needs to touch his mate. Just to soothe him and tell him things will be alright.

Except Keith swipes at him. “Don’t touch me--leave me alone!”

“You’re afraid of me,” Shiro whispers, equal parts horrified and disgusted with himself. Keith doesn’t even recognize him. He’s so weakened he’s confusing Shiro for his enemy. This--he can’t let this go on--he can’t let Keith stay out here like this a moment longer.

“Fuck you,” Keith gasps. “I’m not the stalker here. I was minding my own business. I wasn’t--” his voice cracks. “I wasn’t hurting anybody.”

“Stalker?” It breaks his heart to move forward and see Keith shrink back, but if his mate is this delirious, Shiro needs to move and move now.

“Stay away from me!”

“Don’t waste your energy,” Shiro pleads, catching hold of Keith’s wrists. “Kei--”

Keith jerks away, the speed inhuman, and so Shiro is unable to cushion him as he smashes back against the brick.

“Keith!” The cry tears from his throat as Keith crumples, and Shiro’s eyes water with how much he wishes he were better, wishes he were the kind of smart, strong wonderful mate that Keith deserved instead of such a sad excuse for a wolf that he couldn’t even make his own mate feel safe.

He gathers Keith up as carefully as he knows how, gingerly checking the back of his head, holding his breath to listen to Keith’s heartbeat.

He lets out a quiet sigh of relief to hear it, and if it’s more of a sob then no one else is around to know.

***

Shiro all but blanks his mind in order to get Keith to his car, drive home, and carry him inside, without shutting down over how horrible a mate he’s been. Keith _hurt_ himself. He hurt himself because Shiro hadn’t done his job, hadn’t--

Shiro grits his teeth and breathes out. He moves to settle Keith gently on the couch, but Keith, who hasn’t stirred, clings when Shiro moves to pull away, letting out a thread of a whimper that sears into Shiro’s bones.

There is no thought then, to cradle Keith in his lap and curl around him. It’s where Shiro wants to be most of all anyway. He can hold Keith and bury his nose in Keith’s hair, take in his scent, his heartbeat, and stand guard while he waits for Keith to wake up.

Straining his senses, Shiro can make out Keith’s body healing itself through their bond. If Keith were in better shape, less hungry, no doubt things would have gone faster, but at least Shiro has an easy remedy to that from now on. It’s such a little thing to be able to do for his mate, but it fills him with pride, knowing that, at least in this way, Shiro can provide for him. It’s all he wants. All he wants is to be good for Keith.

He sinks into a soft sort of lull of being until Keith’s breathing changes, heart speeding up all at once. His eyes startle open, and he immediately winces, squeezing them shut. It’s nothing for Shiro to gently cover his eyes with one hand.

“Open slowly,” he murmurs, trying to will all his love and care into the caution. He strokes his knuckles down Keith’s cheek as he pulls his hand away, unable to keep from touching, and holds his own breath as Keith opens his eyes again.

Shiro is struck at once all over again at how beautiful Keith’s eyes are. He reaches forward to brush some of the hair out of his face, quick to provide reassurances when Keith lets out another whimper and curls against Shiro’s body.

“Shhh, you’re okay. I’m here. I’m here for you, Keith.” He has to sigh as he says it, so, so happy that it’s something he is able to say. He smiles down at his mate, so strong and smart and beautiful. He’s already in love. “I’m here now. I found you.”

Keith’s eyes are unfocused as he gazes up at Shiro, panting quietly, and his distress is plain. “You’re starving.” Shiro tries not to growl it. He wishes he knew who was responsible for Keith hurting this way. At Keith’s small whine, Shiro hurries to soften himself. “It’s okay, baby. I’ll take care of you.”

He shifts just enough to press his left wrist against Keith’s mouth, and his heart nearly breaks when Keith looks at him with desperate disbelief. As though Keith hadn’t even expected Shiro to offer him something so easily given. “I can--?”

“Go on,” Shiro says. “Drink as much as you need.” The pride returns. “I heal fast. You won’t have to worry about going hungry again.”

Keith’s next noise is almost a sob, and it has Shiro pressing closer even as Keith finally lets his fangs drop and he bites into the thin skin of Shiro’s wrist.

It hurts, but the pain passes quickly until there’s barely a sting. Instead Shiro is filled with energy and pleasure. He’s doing well, he’s providing, and he’s _made_ for it. He’s built to provide Keith with what he needs. 

Except Keith starts to pull away after barely a few mouthfuls. 

Frowning, Shiro cups the back of Keith’s head, winding his fingers through the strands. “You need more.” He’s stern about it, because it seems as though Keith needs stern. Like Keith needs Shiro to tell him to take enough. That he’s allowed to. “Don’t stop until you’re full. It’s okay. You won’t hurt me.”

Keith stares incredulously at him for a moment, but then he does what he’s told and bites down again, this time drinking and drinking for far longer. Shiro sees the color come back to his skin and it makes him breathe easier. _Me. I helped do that. I helped my mate._

“There you go,” he says to Keith when the man pulls away this time. He strokes his hair. “That was so good, sweetheart. How do you feel?”

“Better,” Keith says. He flushes a pretty pink. “Thanks.”

Shiro nuzzles against him. “Anytime you need it,” he promises, pressing a kiss to Keith’s cheek. “I’m here now. I’ll take care of you, baby.”

At long last, with Keith here in his arms like this, content and full, Shiro feels as though the world has righted itself.

Except then Keith tears himself away, darting across the room. His heartbeat has kicked up, and the panic has come back.

“Keith?” Shiro asks, worried. “What’s wrong?”

Keith’s laugh sounds too much like crying. “What do you mean ‘what’s wrong?’ I’m trapped in some wolf’s fucking den!”

“Of course you’re not trapped,” Shiro tries, holding up his hands. He tries to hide his hurt. If Keith doesn’t like his den that’s… Shiro knows he’s not the best decorator, and he’s been home so rarely lately that he hasn’t cleaned like he should… “I can take you home--”

“I’m not showing you where I live!”

It’s a punch to the gut, and the question escapes against his will. “Why not?” _Stupid._ If Keith doesn't want Shiro in his space, that's Keith’s prerogative--

“Why--” Keith stares at him. “Wow. Okay. Okay, you’re actually insane. I’ve been kidnapped by an insane wolf. _Fuck._ ”

Shiro inhales sharply. Keith might be more disoriented than he thought. “Keith, please, we can talk about this. You haven’t slept--”

Kieth just glares at him. “And whose fault is that?”

“But I… I patrolled your territory,” Shiro says, voice small. “I stood guard wherever you went. If you had gone home, I would have--” he cuts himself off as his eyes widen in realization. Keith’s home. Shiro had been under the impression that Keith lived alone, but if Keith’s home was the unsafe space, if Keith _lived with the threat--_ “Is that why you haven’t been going home? You were scared?”

Keith goes suddenly, shockingly silent.

“Who is it,” Shiro snarls, stalking forward. He’ll kill them. He’ll rip them to shreds. “I’ll make sure they never bother you again.” 

Keith takes a step back, his whole body thrumming. “Are we having two different conversations here?”

It throws Shiro. Has he misunderstood again? “No, I--” he shakes his head and just tries to go with the most straightforward thing he can. “You’re my mate, Keith. Please let me take care of you.”

Keith stares and stares and stares and then croaks, “what the fuck.”

“Please,” Shiro pleads, taking Keith’s hands. “Please, Keith, you have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to find you. I know… I know I’m not the ideal mate. But I will do everything I can to make you happy. Please let me try.” It’s all that he has to offer. He knows it isn’t much, but he _hopes._

Keith’s mouth opens and closes and opens again. “And you think we’re mates _why?”_

Shiro blinks, startled. “I knew the minute I scented you. You had to know--”

Keith is still staring, and the fear scent and panicked heartbeat hasn’t abated, and all at once things click into place as Shiro’s gaze tracks down from Keith’s terrified face to their joined, trembling hands.

“You didn’t…” Shiro feels as though all the air has been sucked out of the room. “You didn’t know.” He wrenches himself away from Keith and stumbles back, trying to give his poor mate distance, this man that Shiro has made _afraid_ of him “Oh my god, you didn’t _know._ And I-- I--” 

Keith shrinks back. “I’m not a wolf,” he mutters, crossing his arms defensively. “I don’t know anything about mates or whatever. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Shiro has never hated himself more. Keith didn’t even _know they were mates._ “Oh my _god.”_ He doesn’t know what to do. Doesn’t know how to save this. How to even begin to beg Keith to give him another chance.

“Well… great,” Keith says before biting his lip. “Now that that’s settled, I’m leaving. Don’t follow me this time.”

“Wait!” Shiro knows he has no right to beg, but the thought of Keith leaving, especially like this, closes off his throat. “Wait, please, let me explain.”

And Keith, his dear, sweet, wonderful mate, allows him that much. “Fine,” he says, going back over to the couch and taking a seat. “I’m listening.”

Shiro squashes down the urge to pace and prowl, because he’s positive it will set Keith more on edge. Instead, he also heads to the couch, sitting down as far away from Keith as he can physically get. His back might be pressing uncomfortably into the couch’s arm, but that doesn’t matter. 

Now how to even start the conversation? “I… do you… do you know anything about wolf packs?”

“Not enough, clearly.”

Shiro swallows and nods. Alright, starting from scratch, then. “I’m a Shirogane. Does that… ring any bells?”

Keith shakes his head, but he gives Shiro what could have been an amused look, if his heart wasn’t still beating rapidly in agitation. “Shiro from the Shirogane pack?”

Shiro’s cheeks warm. “My full name is Takashi Shirogane. Shiro is a nickname.”

“Okay,” Keith says, ducking his head. “Still haven’t heard of the Shiroganes.”

“Well, I… how old are you?” Depending on Keith’s age, he might know something of Shiro’s pack history, even if he isn’t familiar with the name.

Keith glares. “I’m twenty-three.”

Oh, oh _fuck._ “And how, um, how long have you been--”

“Oh my god,” Keith hisses. “I am twenty fucking three years old. I have been alive for twenty three years. I have sucked blood for two of them. Still twenty three.”

“Oh. Got it. I--okay.” Shiro nods, trying to calm his own beating heart now, thoughts going a mile a minute. He doesn’t for a moment regret Keith being his mate, and certainly Shiro doesn’t mind being… older, but if _Keith_ minds… “Oh.”

Keith’s as smart as he is beautiful though, as he’s already proven, and his eyes narrow in suspicion. “Why, how old are you?”

There it is. “I’m thirty-two.”

Keith’s cheeks flame. “Fucking fantastic.”

“I’m not-” Shiro doesn’t actually know what he can say to that. He doesn’t know what to make of Keith’s reaction. But he also can’t deny what’s _there._ He barely chokes down the whine, fingers twitching as he forces himself not to move, not to bare his neck or his belly, not to reach for Keith’s hand because he’s still so desperate just to touch him. “I’m… sorry if it bothers you.” He is, he is, he is, and there’s so little he could do to make up for it but--

“It doesn’t,” Keith mutters, cheeks still red.

Shiro sits up a little straighter, a little more hopeful.

Keith doesn’t meet his eyes. “You were explaining?”

“Right! Well, uh, okay.” Shiro clears his throat and goes on to explain his pack and the history it had with… the Witch, and why they react to soulmates the way that they do. Keith listens attentively, and his reactions to Shiro’s tale are… heartening. Shiro can practically feel Keith’s own outrage at Shiro’s words, and his response to how Shiro killed the witch…

“Good,” Keith hisses. “After all that, she deserved it. You… you didn’t deserve to have to become a murderer, but I’m glad she’s dead.”

Shiro has never felt so absolved before. He’s been told, of course, that it wasn’t his fault, that he did what he had to do--and he doesn’t regret it. He doesn’t. But he’s a killer, and he’s been a killer for a long time. You lose something, with blood on your hands.

And of course… Keith…

Keith’s a vampire. He would know as well as anyone, what it’s like to have to bloody your hands on something you wish you could forget.

 _You didn’t deserve to have to become a murderer._

It feels a little like Keith’s given Shiro back some goodness.

Keith squirms on the couch, and Shiro can smell/sense his muddle of emotions; confusion, unhappiness, embarrassment…

Maybe just a touch of interest?

Shiro can only hope.

“So,” Keith prompts as the silence stretches. He sounds less biting now. “You uh, you broke the curse?”

“Yes,” Shiro says. “Mostly. There’s a holdover from it. My pack… our need for our mates is still stronger than usual. And so when we find the person or people who are ours we get… focused. Especially at first. It’s, um, it’s given us a reputation a little bit.” _Like how stupid we can be, getting so focused on our mates that we lose sense._ He’s never giving any of his family a hard time ever again. “And after we make our bond known, all of our instincts drive us to protect and provide and care for.”

“You didn’t--you didn’t make your bond known,” Keith says, like the words are being pulled from him. He’s clearly struggling with something, the little note of interest becoming a little warmer, a little brighter. But there’s also still pain, so much pain, and fear and uncertainty.

“I’m so sorry,” Shiro says at once. Desperate to explain, to try to lift those negative feelings, even just a little. “I just--I scented you and I knew, I knew at once, and it made me need to prove myself to you, show you that I could be a good mate. That’s why I started…” he closes his eyes, disgusted with himself. “Fuck, god, I guess it really was stalking, wasn’t it?”

“Pretty much, yeah.”

Shiro hides his head in his hands. It would be simpler if he were a wolf. He could curl up into a little ball, nose under his tail and whimper the way he wants to. “I just wanted to protect you. And I guess I thought… I guess since something in me knew you were mine, I just figured that you knew, too. I could tell you were hungry and– and scared, and so I wanted to make sure your territory was safe. When you stayed out and stayed out and didn’t go home I…” It makes him sick to say it, to fully realize what it is he’s done. “But you being scared was my fault.” 

“I wasn’t that scared,” Keith mutters, shoulders hunching as he stares at the floor.

Shiro hates himself. “I’m so, so sorry.”

“Yeah, well… you fed me, so I guess so harm done.”

And at once, those words have Shiro sitting up at attention. Because there’s a question he’s been dying to ask Keith, and this is the perfect opening. “About that. When was the last time you’d eaten?”

Because there was no mistaking it; Keith had been starving. He had been in real danger. Not only that, but he hadn’t contacted anyone at all in the last two days--Shiro would have known if he had.

For all Keith knew, he’d been stalked for over two days by someone that truly terrified him… and he hadn’t reached out to anyone for help.

Keith looks taken aback by the question. “Literally the night you caught wind of me.”

That didn’t make any sense. Sure, Shiro remembers a whiff of a scent of blood that night, but it had barely been drops. If Keith had actually eaten-- “But then… why were you so hungry?”

Keith’s heart starts up double-time and he looks away. “I don’t know what you think of vampires, but we aren’t all murderers. I drink enough to get by. That’s all.”

Enough to get by? That’s _all?_ And what from--from random strangers from who-knows-where with who-knows-what in their blood? Shiro begs the universe that he’s wrong. “You don’t use the donor circuit?”

“I don’t even know what that is,” Keith says flatly.

God. God, Shiro wasn’t wrong. “You… you don’t have a clan.”

Keith shrugs.

Shiro’s heart breaks. “What about your Sire?” he practically begs, grasping at straws. Wanting desperately to know that Keith hasn’t--hasn’t been _alone._ “How were you turned? Didn’t anyone ever... teach you anything?”

Keith shrugs again. “I don’t know, okay? I was turned on my twenty-first birthday. I don’t really remember it.”

“You don’t…?”

“I was stupid,” Keith tells his knees. He sounds furious, but in the way that means you’re near tears. “Okay? I went out by myself to some club. Figured I might as well drink legally and maybe find someone for the night. Met some guy who said some bullshit about me having some sort of inner glow and I let him buy me a drink. I woke up in some hotel room with fangs and a mangled neck, and after I stopped thinking I was crazy, I started trying to figure things out.” 

Shiro didn’t think he could feel any lower than he already did, but just hearing that. Hearing how Keith--how Shiro’s _mate,_ the person Shiro was supposed to love most, to hold close and protect and defend and cherish--

This is how Keith has been living. No one around to care for him or provide for him or to fucking--fucking offer him a _hug_ during what had to have been the most traumatic, upheaval of his life, and he’d had _no one--_

Shiro can barely whisper it. “You’ve been alone all this time?”

Keith’s mouth twists, lip trembling just a little, so used to having to hold everything close in to his chest that he can’t even allow himself one tiny vulnerability in front of the person who’s supposed to be there for him no matter what. “I got by, okay?”

Shiro swallows. He can’t help it. He can’t help but ask. “Can I… can I touch you?”

_Please. Please let me hold you. Please god, let me hold you and stroke your hair and promise that you’ll never be alone again, you’ll never go through any of this alone again. I’m here. I’m here, I’m here, please._

_Please let me love you._

Keith’s heart pounds as he stays as still as a statue. “Um,” he says quietly after a long moment. “Sure, I guess.”

Permission finally granted, Shiro surges forward on the couch to gather Keith up into his arms. He’s so small, but so strong, so capable, so fierce. So perfect and beautiful and lonely and scared and full of tentative hope, and Shiro will fight for the rest of his life to make sure Keith understands just how precious he is.

“I’m here now,” he says, trying to pour all that he can into those words. “I’m here. You won’t ever be alone again, baby. You won’t ever go hungry again.”

It’s a promise. With all of himself, it’s a promise, and Shiro will snarl at anyone who dares say otherwise.

“I’m here,” Shiro says again, murmuring it into Keith’s hair. “I’m here, baby. It’s okay.”

Keith all at once goes loose in Shiro’s arms, hands fisting in Shiro’s shirt, and he lets out a breath of air that might be a sob. 

Shiro holds him and rocks him as they cling to each other, shaking, but the little bloom of hope unfurls some more inside his chest.

It’ll be okay.

They’ll be okay.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> AND IT IS INDEED OKAY.
> 
> :D
> 
> (Talk to me about sheith on [twitter!](https://twitter.com/justsayins))


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